


Chemicals in his veins and truth on his tongue

by Delilah2040



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Complete, Domestic Fluff, Family Feels, Fluff, Love Confessions, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Post-Canon, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 02:24:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19714387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delilah2040/pseuds/Delilah2040
Summary: The case was a six, nothing overly interesting about it.The case was a six until circumstances changed.The case was a six until a dark alleyway and a now empty syringe came into play.~~A little one-shot featuring Sherlock being emotional and people he loves and who love him making an appearance. (Subtle Johnlock) {Sherlock rates his cases out of 10}





	Chemicals in his veins and truth on his tongue

**Author's Note:**

> originally written and posted on another site on the twentieth of December for my beautiful friend. Enjoy!

The case was a six.

It was not all that interesting but with lack of any other type of stimulus, Sherlock took it anyway. A simple case, a man, age twenty- eight was found dead in the bathroom of a night club not far from Angelos, a syringe found beside the body.

The interesting part? The man's tongue had been cut out, a punishment frequently inflicted in ancient times.

The case was a six.

Until Sherlock was caught off guard in the back alley of the club while attempting to smoke a cigarette, by a man with a syringe.

A syringe strikingly similar to the one besides the dead man.

Only the substance within the syringe seemed to have little to no effect on the famous consulting detective. Merely disorientating him enough for the other man to get away.

The substance within the syringe seemed to have little to no effect on Sherlock Holmes. Or at least, that's what he thought.

He didn't realise what exactly was in the syringe until he arrived back at 221b Baker Street.

"John! John you wonderful man where are you?" Sherlock shouts the moment he enters the building, his own eyebrows furrowing as he realised what he had said.

Never had he ever voiced those thoughts. He rarely even considered the thought that seemed to come out of nowhere whenever his flatmate came to mind.

"Sherlock, you woke Rosie," a bleary-looking Doctor Watson says walking down the stairs with the toddler being held on his hip.

"Oh I'm so sorry my beautiful girl, I did miss you dearly on the case today, you and your father, it was quite eventful," Sherlock says swooping up the child from his friend's arms to give her a cuddle.

She lets out a little squeak, not used to her "papa sh'lock," being so... emotional.

"Papa!" Rosie can't help squeal in delight as her fathers best friend twirls her around.

Rosie had started calling Sherlock papa after she heard a young boy in her preschool class talk about his two dad's whom he called dad and papa and decided, much to the confusion of her new papa to call him so.

"You know I love hearing you call me papa, I love being your papa, you're my little princess and I love you so so much," Sherlock says and when he looks up, letting his eyes meet John's now wide awake and confused gaze he's surprised to see the shock on his face.

"You know I love you too John, I don't know how you don't already know how much I love you two and Mrs Hudson too but you especially. I mean sure you aren't as clever as I am but you sure are a clever man," Sherlock says and as if heading her name, Mrs Hudson steps out from her own apartment determined to shout at Sherlock for his rather loud 2am impromptu love declarations.

Her annoyance and sleepiness dissipate A's Sherlock turns to her, eyes wild and reminiscent of his days before Rosie, before even John, his days before sobriety.

"MRS HUDSON!" Sherlock shouts in sync with Rosie's quieter (although not by much) "GRANNY HUDDERS!"

Sherlock rushes over to the woman pulling her into a hug with his Rosie-free arm.

"Oh Mrs Hudson thank you so much for not kicking me out and for making me tea and for being so amazing, I love you so much, you're like a mother to me, I fact you are far more a mother than my own has ever been." Sherlock takes a deep breath, unsure why he's saying all this, or rather why they are letting him say all this.

"In my mind palace, I know I've never explained it but each person has their own room, you, John and Rosie however, have the biggest room and your doors have your name and your relation to me, Rosie's says daughter and yours Mrs Hudson, yours says mum and I'm not sure why because I don't remember putting that there," he stops realising he was speaking quite fast and also still holding the elderly woman in his arms.

"Let's have tea, come along Mrs Hudson," he says letting her go and instead, grabbing John's hand with his free one and attempting to drag him upstairs while instead tripping up them.

John catches him and his daughter -who Sherlock still had in his arms- every time and soon seats the taller man down on the couch as he goes on attempting to explain his mind palace.

John notes how worried Mrs Hudson looks knowing that he must have a similar expression etched onto his face.

"You know Mrs Hudson, I've always wanted to ask if I could call you mum but I've been too afraid," Sherlock almost whispers from his place now laying down across the couch cuddling the small child to his chest. "I'm afraid because I deduced when I first met you that although you truly love children you never wanted the responsibility of having your own." He stops turning his head to look at the woman.

"You are too afraid to have that responsibility because of what happened with your husband, all those bad choices and decisions, but I don't understand that because you do so well with Rosie and with me, and yes I can admit it, John, sometimes I am a bigger child than Rosie," Sherlock says alluding to the argument they had had days before.

A simple argument stemming from yet another of Sherlock's boredom induced sulk in which John told -or rather shouted that even Rosie wasn't as much of a child as he was being at the time.

"Sherlock," Mrs Hudson says in a motherly tone, not nearly as condescending as he was used to after the amount of damage he had caused to the flat.

"You know I've thought of you; much the same way as you think of Rosie, for a long time now, surely you've deduced that" She says sitting down on the edge of the couch by Sherlock's stomach and brushing away a few stray curls that must be tickling the man's forehead.

It was such a motherly gesture that Sherlock couldn't help but point it out. He sits up, Rosie slipping to his lap with a small huff of annoyance as he pulls Mrs Hudson into yet another hug. "I love you mum," he says.

He doesn't mean to say it, he wanted to terribly. Maybe he always has secretly wanted to say it. Always wanted to love someone enough to want to say it. So secretly that even he didn't know he wanted to say it. Before he can stop himself he says all this aloud and the tears falling down Mrs Hudson's cheeks in a steady stream indicate that she didn't know it either.

"I'm going to go make us some tea, would you like to help Rosie-dear," the landlady says pulling away and getting up, no doubt in an attempts to recollect herself.

This leaves just John and the drugged up detective in the room. Before Sherlock can open up his mouth for yet another word vomit, John opens up his.

"What did you take," his voice stern and face hard.

"You're angry," Sherlock deduces. "It's quite obvious by the tone of your voice, set of your shoulders and th-" John cuts him off.

"Of course I'm angry, you took some sort of drug, which you promised not to do! It was one of the conditions of me bringing Rosie here, no more drugs!" John says with a now wavering voice.

"It's not like I did it on purpose! I didn't just ask to be stabbed with a needle by a random guy who cornered me behind the club! What you think I go up to strange men like oh yeah I'd do anything for a hit, how about I help fulfil your assault fantasy and you can intoxicate me with an unknown substance" Sherlock says. "You know I would never do anything that could hurt Rosie, that could hurt you, I would never ever lie to you, not after what happened last time."

Sherlock was, of course, referring to his 'death' and the effects that charade had on his best friend.

"Especially when last time you grew a moustache, that's a joke obviously that's not the reason, it's obviously because of how upset I made you but I am glad you got rid of that abomination, although you're a handsome man either way, you look far better without it," Sherlock says and John's cheeks go pink.

Although Sherlock can't tell whether it's due to the compliment or his anger at Sherlock, another thought he ended up voicing.

John ignores it. "You said you were attacked? Was it because of this case or something else?" The doctor asks becoming more serious.

"This case, it was only a six on the scale before now it's like an eight I mean this drug is fascinating, I hate it, I can't keep my thoughts straight they keep bouncing around like bunnies, bunnies are cute, we should get a bunny and name it thumper like in that movie, the one you wanted to stop letting Rosie watch cause the deers mother dies?" Sherlock says proving his point and amusing John in the process.

"We should call Lestrade, maybe Mycroft too," John calmly speaks, acting logical.

"Greg! Hi, I didn't wake you did I, oh, of course, I did you're a normal, although slightly smarter than average human and it's two thirty in the morning," Sherlock says the moment his phone call is answered.

"What do you want?" Lestrade asks, his voice groggy and confused.

"You know I've always known your first name, it was just a bit of an experiment, see how much I could annoy you. Got boring after a while but it still always somewhat entertained John, probably cause it made me look slightly less smart, that's always- hey I was talking to my friend John!" Sherlock calls in dismay as John yanks the phone out of Sherlock's hand putting it on speaker.

"John, what's happening?" The inspector asks sounding far more alert than before.

And so John explains "... it's quite entertaining actually," he finishes and Lestrade can be heard moving about and chuckling through the phone.

"Okay, well I'll go wake Molly up, get her to run some tests, we'll be there in twenty-ish," he says and John replies with a simple "thanks Greg" before hanging up.

There's a knock on the door.

"It hasn't been twenty minutes yet," Sherlock says.

"What a fascinating deduction you truly are fantastic," John says sarcastically.

"You know I love it when you compliment me, that first time I was so shocked by the fact that you did, usually I get called freak but you, you called me amazing and- and fantastic. I think that's when I first began to love you." Sherlock stops one hand coming up to his face in thought.

"That is a soppy story brother," Mycroft says now standing just inside the room.

"Mycroft! When do you ever knock? What are you doing sticking your fat nose into my business? Do you know? Did you deduce it using your deduction powers," Sherlock wiggles his fingers.

"Know what? No, I saw footage of you stumbling into and later out of a cab and thought I should check up on you," Mycroft says coming slightly closer to examine him better.

"Oh god, something he doesn't know! You know John despite what my sister said, Mycroft has always been the smartest one, I only know how to pretend to be better but he's always been better and it does get frustrating sometimes." Sherlock says ignoring Mycroft who's face was shockingly similar to both John and Mrs Hudson's at the beginning of the night, or rather, the morning.

"Although he always used his brains for good things like becoming a government agent while I was getting high somewhere or helping to stop me from getting high somewhere while I was still getting high somewhere, I'm not anymore Mycroft, not intentionally so you don't have to worry about me, I know you will anyway, just like I worried about you when I feared you'd gone missing on that case a couple of months ago where government people where being tortured and killed." Sherlock rambles unable to stop himself.

"Is that why I woke up to nearly thirty missed calls from you?" Mycroft asks, his voice soft, much like the one he used to use when they were younger and Sherlock had done something good.

"It was only twenty-seven" Sherlock whispers. This lead to both Mycroft and John jumping when not half a second later Sherlock shouts out to Mrs Hudson.

"Mum! Are you bringing us tea! Make some for Mycroft too! Oh Mrs Hudson makes the best tea Mycroft, she is truly some sort of tea wizard I don't know how she does it, I bet it's something cheesy like 'with lots of love' ya know?" Sherlock says once again ignoring the shock on Mycroft's face at hearing his brother calling his landlady 'mum'.

John again is on explanation duty while Mrs Hudson brings in some tea to aid the discussion.

Before they know it, inspector Lestrade and Molly are joining them in the discussion, Molly takes Sherlock's blood and while they wait for the tests to run they listen to Sherlock ramble.

"You know Molly, I always knew you were in love with me and I was okay with it cause you were the first person, other than Mycroft- although he'd never admit it- and Mrs Hudson to do so. And of course I love you too I mean you truly are a clever woman, I just love you in a different way." The embarrassment is clear on Molly's cheeks although that could also be flattery adding pink to them.

"And Greg, I don't think I've ever told you how instrumental you were, and continue to be to my sobriety, well I guess I'm not exactly sober anymore now am I. But you are a good man and a very good detective." Sherlock let's out a yawn. The timer goes off.

"You know John of all the times I've mentioned I love you tonight, you haven't once acted surprised, you couldn't possibly have known," Sherlock says eyelids beginning to droop. Molly shouts out that she knows what the drug is.

"Of course you love me, you wouldn't put up with me and my daughter if you didn't, we're best friends after all." Even a suddenly extremely sleepy Sherlock could hear the touch of venom in the last words.

"That's not what I meant, I thought you would have realised by now, I'm in love with you," Sherlock says letting his eyes close. The last thing he hears before drifting off into a deep sleep was John making a fuss over him, even sounding like he was crying and Molly shouting out that he would be fine.

Lips pressed to his forehead. An 'I love you too' murmured through the dark.

The case was a six, not all that interesting, definitely no murder in a locked room.

A syringe being emptied into his veins made the case more interesting, what was in it, made it an eight.

But speaking his mind so freely and without fear, telling the people he loves how much he loves them, telling John how he truly felt and hearing that his feelings were reciprocated, that is what made this case a 10.


End file.
